But he definitely isn’t the relationship type. He’s the let’s-have-some-fun-and-forget-each-other type, and that is a type that I most certainly do not partake in.
The moment Xavier pulls up in front of Aunt Dee’s place, the thought occurs to me that I never even gave him directions. The moment he kills the motor, I hop off the bike and yank the helmet off my head, unable to stop myself from asking the question flashing in my brain.
“How did you know where I lived?”
He grins mischievously. “Your cousin Quinn isn’t the only one who knows how to track down someone’s information.”
My teeth glide over my bottom lip, curious as to why he would go to all that trouble, and wondering what else this man knows about me. “I’m not certain that stalking me on the Internet would be that interesting. I’m boring.”
His eyes twinkle. “Boring is relative, Anna. Someone who graduated with a degree in hospitality—with honors—and a minor in dance, doesn’t seem that boring to me.”
I shake my head. “You found all that out on the Internet?”
“I didn’t, Deena did.”
Deena? The blonde from the club? She hates my guts and probably loathed that task. I’m surprised she didn’t fill his head with a bunch of lies about me while she was at it. “She work for you or something?”
He nods, and shoves his dark hair back off his face. “Yeah, or at least she did until she threatened me a little while ago. I don’t do well with threats. Giving me an ultimatum of any kind doesn’t work. She knows that. I do what I want, when I want. It’s a shame because she was a decent PA.”
I scrunch my brow. “What’s a PA?”
“A personal assistant,” he clarifies. “Jimmy is going to hate doing all my personal and managerial shit until he finds a new one.”
Xavier sounds like he might be a handful. “So you have two people that basically follow you around everywhere?
“More or less. I didn’t ask Deena to come out here with me though. She showed up on her own.” The moment he says that everything falls into place. No wonder that woman hates me.
Even though it’s none of my business, I ask, “Do you sleep with all your assistants?”
He smirks. “Is it that obvious?”
I laugh. “No woman would follow her boss unless she had to. And the look she gave me back at the bar—”
“She’s threatened by you,” he interjects.
“Why? Has she not seen herself?” I can’t imagine anyone who looks like Deena feeling threatened by the likes of me.
Xavier taps my nose. “You obviously haven’t seen yourself, Anna. Every man in that bar was watching you tonight, wishing they were the lucky bastard who got to take you home.”
“That’s why you said I was leaving with you whether I knew it or not, wasn’t it? You were protecting me from all the pricks in Detroit again, weren’t you?” I tease him, throwing his definition of every other man in the city back at him.
He winks. “What are friends for?” Xavier cranks the bike alive, and over the rumble he says, “See you around, beautiful.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to ask him when that will be before he speeds off into the darkness. A thousand questions dance through my mind as it replays the day I’ve just spent with this intoxicating man. I know never seeing him again would be the best thing for me, but I can’t stop the longing for him aching inside me. Xavier Cold is one bad man I pray I get the chance to know better.
7
Anna
The brush runs through my hair, and I stare absently into the mirror while my thoughts drift to Xavier. Ever since he dropped me off last night, I’ve had him on the brain. I know we’re just friends, but I have this unyielding desire to be more than that. The problem is, I know what he wants from me, but I’m afraid to go there because I don’t think I can give myself over to him just one time and be okay with him walking away. I know I’ll want more, and he’s not the relationship type.
I’m afraid of getting my heart broken.
“Come on, Anna, we’re going to be late. If there’s one thing Andy hates, it’s tardiness, so hurry your cute ass up. You want to make a good impression on your first day,” Quinn calls from her bedroom—our bedroom now.
I finish pulling my hair up into a high ponytail and rush out of the bathroom. “I’m ready.”
She appraises my outfit—black shorts that read “Staff” across the butt and a bright green shirt with “Property of Larry” across my chest. “You look great!”
I tug at the shorts, wishing they were a little longer. “I’m not so sure about this outfit, Quinn. It’s not very me.”
She grabs her keys off the dresser. “Isn’t that the point? I thought you wanted to do the opposite of what you’d normally do.”
I frown. “It is, but it’s all a little much to get used to at one time.”
She wraps her slender arm around my shoulders as we walk toward the front door. “I promise it won’t be so bad. All the girls dress like this. Trust me. You’ll be thanking me when you’re counting your tips.”
Quinn drives us to work in her Honda, and fills me in about the job and what I can expect. I nod in all the correct places, trying to pretend I’m not a complete mess inside. My nerves are in overdrive. Who knew starting a job would make me feel like a crazy person?
We pull into the parking lot of Larry’s, and I stare at the brick building, anxious to get inside while simultaneously wishing I could run away.
Quinn must sense my unease, because she pats my arm. “Don’t worry. You’re going to do great.”
I give her a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll try not to let you down.”
The moment we walk in through the back door, clearly marked “Employees Only” my nose is assaulted with the smell of fried, greasy food. Bodies flit around the tight kitchen so quickly I’m not sure where to point my gaze first. Two guys, wearing green t-shirts with the same slogan as mine, wave to Quinn from behind the grill. I fully expect my cousin to be polite and greet our coworkers, but instead she raises her left hand as we pass and flips them the middle finger.
“Quinn, baby, don’t be like that,” the taller of the two guys whines.
She doesn’t even glance in his direction, and the cook frowns. I’m not sure who he is, but he’s cute with floppy brown hair and boyish good looks.
It appears Quinn hasn’t told me everything about this place.
The blond cook beside the one who just spoke to Quinn allows his eyes to roam over my body, spending a noticeable amount of time on my chest.
“Did you bring us fresh meat, Quinnie?”
“Fuck off, Tyler. Don’t even think about it. Anna is off-limits.” She stops dead in her tracks and directs an evil stare at the brown-haired cook. “That means you too, Brock. You come near her or me, I’ll shank you where you stand.”
Tyler holds up his hands in surrender. “Damn, Quinnie, who pissed in your Wheaties?”
She narrows her eyes at the two men. “Ask your butt-buddy.”
Tyler immediately whips his head in Brock’s direction and gives his arm a small shove. “Did you two break up? A fucking warning would’ve been nice, dude.”